


Saudade

by deadend1995



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, First Love, Frottage, M/M, Meronia, Mutual Masturbation, POV First Person, Praise Kink, sexual content in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:46:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadend1995/pseuds/deadend1995
Summary: Adoration from afar becomes something beautiful. Something beautiful becomes something ugly.





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, what's your problem?"  
  
Oh, my god, it's _so bright._ I can feel myself blinking but this is the opposite of blindness.  
  
"Hey, can you hear me? What's your fuckin' problem?"  
  
By the time I register that someone is speaking to me, shadows have begun to cut through the light. The shadows are turning into shapes. There is a man leaning over me. He's trying to find out what my fucking problem is.  
  
"Its fine," I manage to croak out. My esophagus feels like it's trying to stick together.  
  
The man scoffs at me and walks away, and the world has come enough into focus for me to recognize that I have been passed out in my car, parallel parked a block down from my old apartment for...  
  
How long have I been here?  
  
I try to check my phone, but it's dead. Was it dead before I fell asleep?  
  
I'm all clammy and hollow-feeling. All dopesick. As the feeling wakes up inside of me, it starts tearing through my gut, drawing me up into it like a spider curling up in death.  
  
_I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't, I can't.  
_  
I don't know how long it is before I can move my limbs, before the tension in my face falls away enough to open my eyes. Maybe fifteen minutes. Maybe an hour. The waves of nausea make me gag occasionally, but there hasn't been anything to throw up in days, so the only thing that comes out of me is a dry, awful retching. Sitting up straight and putting my hands over my mouth for a bit seems to calm it down a little, to my relief.  
  
I can feel the plastic of the hospital bracelet around one wrist digging into the other.  
  
I think of Mello, trying to call me. Trying to find me.  
  
I fight through the dizziness and the stabbing ache radiating through me and open the car door. I stand up slowly, carefully; I really feel the asphalt slipping and curving underneath me, but I ignore it and steady myself on the door before closing it.  
  
My steps up to my porch- Matt's porch- are tentative, and my fist hovers a few inches from the door before I toss aside whatever dignity I didn't even know I had left and let my knuckles rap against the wood a few times.  
  
I hear nothing for a moment, then the roll of a desk chair on hardwood. Footsteps. Closer. Unlocking the deadbolt.  
  
When he opens the door and sees me, all Matt's breath leaves him like he's been punched. He stares me up and down for a moment, sure that it's me, but not believing the state I've come to him in.  
" _Near_ ," he says finally, "my _god_."  
  
I look away quickly. I know how I look now; dirty clothes hanging on a frame of skin and bones, my hair overgrown and unkempt, deep purple bags around blown eyes.  
  
I look past Matt and see L crouched on the couch in the living room, trying to peer around Matt at me.  
  
"Now probably isn't a good time," I mumble, already starting to take a step back when Matt reaches out to grab my shoulder.  
  
"No, no! I'm sorry, come in," he says, stepping back to make room for me.  
  
"Who is it?" L's voice finally comes, but he gets his answer as I step inside the vestibule. I hear him say, "Oh."  
  
Though I'm shivering cold, the sweatshirt around me starts feeling uncomfortably hot as I avoid eye contact with L and follow Matt down the hallway to the kitchen. I notice it hasn't changed much since he and I were roommates, though it looks like someone is doing the dishes more often. There is still a small bistro table and chairs next to the window. The ashtray on top of it is still nearly overflowing.  
  
"What's going on? I haven't heard from you in months," Matt says, his voice hard but not unforgiving.  
  
"Oh, Matt," I sigh, looking at him in the eye for the first time. His eyes are green and clear, beryl burning into me, reaching to understand. "I...I..."  
  
The tears jump to my eyes at an alarming rate and only cloud my vision further as Matt touches my back to guide me to sit and gather myself.  
  
"I shouldn't have ever even let him meet you," Matt says flatly as he watches me.  
  
"It's all my fault," I finally tell him. "It's all my fault. I had a choice. And this is what I chose."  
  
"What happened?" Matt insists, pushing my shoulder to make me look at him. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling, gulping hard before I'm able to make anything out.  
  
"Will you help me if I tell you?"  
  
"Near," Matt says my name in a humorless laugh, "I'm going to help you no matter what. You're my friend."  
  
The relief that floods me is enough to make me sob right then and there, but I grip the edge of the chair I'm on and hold it in for now.  
  
"I'll tell you."

  
  
I used to think that my meeting Mello was written in the stars. That heaven and earth couldn't have stopped us from finding one another. The truth was that it was something that could have happened, or not happened. It could have been at any time. The truth was that if I wanted to avoid it, I could have.  
  
Before I met him, I had seen him and known him only by name. Well, maybe a bit more than that, but not much.  
  
Once a month, instead of Matt waking up early and driving himself to class, I would keep the car and drop him off, take care of our monthly errands like paying the rent and utilities, and then pick him up from the college campus in the afternoon. I kind of hate driving, but I was the one who didn't have class anymore, and since I was working from home, I could choose my days off, so it was really only fair. And I got something out of it, too. Every time I went to pick Matt up, he would be talking with Mello in the front building's courtyard.  
  
At that point, Mello was an enigma to me. The first time I'd seen him, I had managed to get myself so flustered that Matt had immediately noticed when he got in the car.  
  
"You okay?" he asked me as he pushed his bookbag into the back seat and peered a bit closer at me.  
  
"Y-yeah, I just...your friend, the guy you were talking to," I managed rather unconvincingly. It was the only thing I could think to say that didn't sound completely creepy.  
  
Matt grinned, no doubt entertained. "Oh, that's Mello. He transferred over here last year. He's an art major," he told me simply.  
  
I nodded and said nothing, glad to have a friend like Matt who could read me well enough to not have to ask any questions.  
  
_Mello._ While I was driving I tried to imagine how my lips and tongue would have wrapped around the name. _Mello_.  
  
I had never been one for romance. The only time I'd had anything remotely close to a relationship at that time was when a girl in my senior year of high school had confessed her attraction for me and I had been too diffident to tell her I wasn't interested or to tell her anything at all, really. She followed me around for a couple of weeks and talked to me often. She wasn't rude or anything, but eventually, I asked Matt, who had always been a little more comfortable with social graces than I was, to let her down easily for me. After that, my romantic life was completely flatlined, which made no difference to me. Love was something I had no time to consider as a teenager or any other time.  
  
I graduated from high school at sixteen, and by the time Matt was entering university, both of us eighteen and looking for an apartment to rent together, I was preparing for my junior year of college. It seemed like there was always something to do, something to complete, something to put ahead of the social interactions that I was sure I could postpone.  
  
But soon I had been through another graduation and had decided to put off applying for any graduate programs for a year or two. For the first time in my life, I felt that I was sufficiently caught up enough to slow down a little. I found a medical transcription job that allowed me to stay at home to work, and it was honestly easy enough that I could have done it in my sleep. There was a comforting, temperate kind of normalcy surrounding me, but it felt like there was something I was forgetting.  
  
Then, on the day I saw Mello, he made me remember.  
  
I'm not sure what drew me to him first. He was just talking to Matt, but even the way he looked standing there made me feel breathless. He had his bangs pulled back and pinned out of his face, and his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hooded leather jacket. Over his shoulder, he wore a backpack and carried an easel case. When Matt bid him goodbye and headed towards the car, Mello watched him go. I'm not sure if he saw me in the car looking at him, but he smiled in my direction and I became painfully aware of my staring. I couldn't stop thinking about it.  
  
And that would be the pattern for the next several months. I never once thought about speaking to him or asking Matt about him again. He would bring Mello up sometimes, like mentioning a particularly interesting art piece he'd shown him, or when he was going to meet him somewhere to go drinking. It seemed like they were pretty good friends, but he never came around the house or anything. I found myself feeling sort of relieved about that, actually. _What would I say to him if I had the chance, anyway?_ I thought. _Someone like me has nothing to offer someone like him.  
_  
But the chance found me. Matt came home one Friday afternoon and knocked on my bedroom door.  
  
"Come in," I called from my desk, finishing the last fold on an origami star cube before tossing it into a pile with the others I had made while I took a break from my laptop. It was my day off and I had spent it so far watching a documentary TV series about unsolved disappearances, something I did shamelessly in my free time. I looked over my shoulder at Matt and offered him a smile, which he returned.  
  
"First off, you wanna smoke?" he asked, his bookbag still on his shoulder.  
  
"Oh, sure," I replied, turning my chair around and moving to sit on my bed. Matt followed suit and sat his bag down, unzipping it and pulling out the small lockbox he kept his stash in. He told me he had just picked this stuff up, and it was really good, et cetera. I nodded and 'ooh'ed but honestly, even though I usually took Matt up on his offer to smoke weed with me, I didn't really care about the stuff. It definitely helped me relax, but other than that, it mostly just stunk. It did keep migraines and tension headaches at bay, however, and that was something I was grateful for.  
  
"Now, second off," Matt went on through a held breath after hitting the bowl and passing it to me. "I meant to ask you earlier this week but"- he took a pause to exhale- "Mello is having a party tonight and told me to see if you wanted to come."  
  
I immediately started coughing on the smoke I'd just inhaled, my surprise and the immediate presence of my heart in my throat making me hack as Matt patted my back to try and help me clear my chest. Finally, eyes watering and my throat scathed, I asked, "He told you to invite me?"  
  
"Well, he said to bring you and anyone else who wanted to come, but there's already going to be a bunch of folks there, I'm pretty sure. Mostly other people in the art department, so if you came with me, at least I would have someone else I knew there," Matt said.  
  
"Well...," I mumbled, pretending to think about it.  
  
"I mean, you think he's cute, don't you?" Matt asked me plainly.  
  
"Ah...," I trailed off. I hadn't thought of it in terms that simply. "It's been a pretty long time since I've gone out or anything, I guess it wouldn't hurt."  
  
Matt lit up, and it was endearing to see that he genuinely wanted me to come along. Matt had seen me as a quiet, sheltered kid, as a shy, awkward teenager, and now as a rather boring adult, but he still liked me. And we did always have a good time together. We ended up smoking a couple of bowls together while we chatted about his day before he announced that he was going to shower and get ready for the party.  
  
Sufficiently stoned, I remained seated on my bed and tried to rehearse my actions for the night in my head. Parties had never really been my thing, though I had accompanied Matt to a few in high school and in college. They mostly served as an excuse for me to get stoned with my roommate somewhere other than our own house, and maybe have a couple of drinks (if there was anything good). But this was Mello's party.  
  
_He's definitely going to be there, then_ , I thought, and was instantly amazed once again by the stupid things I could think when I wasn't sober.  
  
I tried to swallow down my nervousness and focus on picking out an outfit, which took an embarrassingly long time. I didn't even have that big of a wardrobe, but everything seemed like it looked wrong on me. I settled on a black velour shirt and a pair of cuffed slim jeans, and even though I wasn't really satisfied with it, I finally pulled the outfit on as the sun was setting and went to the bathroom to put on a touch of mascara. My eyelashes are basically invisible without it, and it's always bugged me, so I tried to wear it whenever I went out. I attempted to fix my hair in a way that looked flattering, but when it became too much trouble I gave up, shaking it out into its regular curl.  
  
Matt was waiting for me in the living room, lacing on his second boot. "Ready?" he asked me cheerily, and I managed a smile, nodding.  
  
We stopped and picked up a bottle of tequila before heading away from downtown and into the residential part of town. I felt my stomach tighten and flip as we parked in front of a quaint, one-story house with several other cars already out front, some even parked in the yard. Though darkness had just settled, the music was already loud and the stench of pot was detectable as soon as I stepped out of the car.  
  
Carrying the tequila in one arm, I followed Matt as he ignored the front door to walk around to the back door, knocking twice in quick succession before letting himself in. The house was lit by tube blacklights that lined the wall, and from what I could tell, all of the furniture had been pushed against the walls to allow for more standing room. The back door brought us in through a den where several people had set up to smoke and listen to music that sounded different than what was coming from the front of the house. Matt acknowledged them with a nod and led me out of the den and to the kitchen, where we stuck the tequila in a large tub filled with ice that was sitting on an island. It held an assortment of other liquor, but somehow I felt that drinking now would only make me more nervous.  
  
"Matt, you made it!"  
  
Matt and I both turned to see Mello approaching us with a wide smile. His hair was down, and he wore a black t-shirt with several holes that looked to have been patched by hand with different colored threads. A pair of leather pants hung low around his hips, and the glimpse of his hip bones that I got instantly made me break into a sweat. Then, I did something I thought was so strange and rude that I thought I would never recover from it.  
  
I looked at Matt, then directly at Mello, and then I turned and hurriedly walked off in the opposite direction.  
  
I couldn't do it. I just couldn't.  
  
He was too beautiful. It was the first time I'd ever heard his voice and it was, painfully, exactly how I'd thought it'd sound. I decided I didn't want to meet him. I didn't want to disappoint myself by proving myself right- that he was someone unattainable.  
  
Matt didn't follow me, probably to avoid embarrassing me, and I weaved my way into the front living room. Surprisingly, the couch was completely empty, so I settled myself on one of the end seats and watched the other people around me interact while I cursed my own shortcomings. When had I become so stupid? Or was it that I was simply gutless? A large sigh left me as I looked across the room.  
A few moments later, I saw him come into the living room. Mello. He was peering around the room like he had lost something.  
  
For some reason, like an idiot, I stood up and shuffled into a sparsely populated corner of the room. I suppose I was hoping he wouldn't see me at all for the rest of the night, but it wouldn't be so.  
When I looked over at him again, he had found me at that precise moment, our eyes meeting like the string of fate had tugged our gazes right then to bring them up and together. I felt that familiar twist in my insides, the heat on my cheeks when I studied the square of his jaw, the straightness of his nose. When I realized I'd been looking long enough to be considering staring, I also realized that he hadn't looked away either. Then, still holding my gaze, he started making his way through the bodies in his living room to come towards me.  
  
If I had known about Mello what I would come to know about him, I wonder if I would have decided to look away. But when I remember how his gaze lit me up inside like a match thrown into a gas tank, I begin to doubt it.  
  
He would later claim that he saw me turn pink under the blacklight when he looked at me. Pink like our first kiss, he said.  
  
My heart skipped a beat before slamming into my chest, my mind racing as I tried to think of what to say. Tried to guess what he might say.  
  
I stood frozen in place until he was suddenly only a few feet away, and then right in front of me. Now I could see that his nose wasn't straight- it went the slightest bit to the left. He had a scar through his eyebrow that lined up with a scar I could only barely make out on his upper lip. His eyes were a sparkling blue that I could have made out in pitch blackness. He was more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.  
  
"Hey, you're Matt's roommate, right?" he asked me with a smile. I couldn't hear him over the music, but staring at his lips made them easy to read.  
  
Dumbly, I only nodded.  
  
"I'm Mello," he introduced himself. "Matt's in my comp class, he's a really cool guy."  
  
"I know who you are," I replied, and I internally cringed at myself immediately. Still, Mello continued to grin at me.  
  
"Oh yeah? Lucky me," he said. "What's your name?"  
  
"Near."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Uh, it's Near."  
  
Mello's lips curled up even more. It made my heart sing in pain to see something so beautiful.  
  
"You said 'come here'?" he asked, scooting close enough to press against me. My face went even hotter, and I felt myself tense up.  
  
"Ah, no! My name is Near," I said a bit louder this time, quickly getting embarrassed. Surprisingly, Mello hurriedly scooted off of me.  
  
"Hey, I'm sorry, I really misheard you," he apologized, effectively making me feel much stupider.  
  
"I-its okay," I muttered. I knew he couldn't hear me, but he kept looking at me. "So, Matt said you're an art major," I said. Anything to move on from my furiously beating heart.  
  
"Yup! Concentration's in drawing and painting," Mello replied, and I could tell it was a source of pride for him. It made me smile a little.  
  
"That's really interesting. I love art but I'm not able to create it myself."  
  
"Nonsense. You created art as soon as you woke up this morning."  
  
He said it so matter-of-factly that I could think of nothing to say in response. He laughed at my expression, and to my shock, reached to fondly stroke a hand over my hair.  
  
"Wanna come out on the front porch with me?" he offered. I nodded without hesitation. Talking to Mello felt exhilarating, and I was hanging on his every word. He could have started telling me a banana bread recipe and I would have been just as eager to listen.  
  
We squeezed through the front door and out onto the small front porch, where Mello reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cigar case. He popped it open to reveal a few hand-rolled blunts and lit one up before passing it to me. Under the porch light, I could see him better, and I noted the dust of freckles across his cheeks.  
  
"So you're not in school?" he asked me. Being able to hear his voice without being muffled by music made me shiver a bit.  
  
"I graduated last year," I explained, and he raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Wow, really? How old are you?"  
  
"Twenty-one."  
  
"Damn! What'd you get your degree in?"  
  
"Forensic science," I answered bashfully before taking a long drag from the blunt.  
  
"Wow! Near, that's really impressive," Mello told me, and the authenticity in his tone made me blush more.  
  
"Ah, thank you. I plan on going back to school at some point, but I'm enjoying having a bit more time to myself for right now," I said, certain that I sounded like the most boring person he'd ever spoken to.  
  
"Understandably," he replied, his fingers brushing mine as I passed the blunt back. "Whattaya like to do with all that new free time?"  
  
"Oh, I work a few days out of the week, and I read a lot. Like, medical journals about new diseases and difficult symptoms really interest me. I do a lot of origami."  
  
"Origami?" Mello parroted, clearly very interested.  
  
"Ah, mm-hm," I answered with a small smile.  
  
"Would you show me?"  
  
The question caught me off guard, but finally, I nodded.  
  
"Wait here," he told me with an excited grin and gave me the rest of the blunt before ducking back inside. I ended up puffing a good bit of it away before he returned, a stack of origami paper in his hands. "I bought a pack of origami paper for a couple of cute patterns to keep in my sketchbook, then I wound up with the whole rest of the pack that I didn't need," he chuckled. We sat on the edge of the porch and he handed me the paper.  
  
"What would you like me to make for you?" I asked him.  
  
"Surprise me," he replied, still smiling.  
  
I pondered for a moment before picking out a maroon piece of paper and making the first mountain fold. As my fingers worked, my mind relaxed and I was able to rely on my muscle memory. I went a little quicker than usual, even- it wasn't often that I had an audience.  
  
A few minutes later, a delicately shaped rose sat in my palm, and I offered it sheepishly to Mello.  
  
I glanced up at his expression and found my heart leaping with joy at the positively mesmerized look on his face.  
  
"And you said you couldn't make art!" Mello said, gently taking the rose from my hand as though it were made of glass. "This is beautiful, Near, really. I want to replace all of my decorations with your origami roses."  
  
"I can make more than just roses," I said, smiling more.  
  
"Show me, I want to see everything you can make," Mello encouraged me. There was no hint of condescension in his voice, and we continued talking as I folded.  
  
He told me about how he'd moved to town for the school's art program, how it was better funded and had more to offer. He told me about how Matt had been the first friend he'd made and hung out with outside of campus. We talked about what we each liked and disliked about different parts of town. We both loved downtown the most. We both loved the tiny, old movie theater behind the mall as opposed to the newer cinema across town. We even shared a love for the same bakery, though Mello said he went once a week to pick up their triple chocolate scones as opposed to my once-in-a-while schedule.  
  
I began to think it really was a wonder we hadn't met yet.  
  
Before I knew it, it was nearly midnight, and I had folded all of the paper Mello had given me. His lap overflowed with different flowers, stars, birds, shapes, and even a couple of boxes that could open and close. I found myself wishing for more paper, more time to hold Mello's attention.  
  
"Ah, I'm sorry for using up all of your paper," I apologized.  
  
"Nonsense! You've turned this paper into something beautiful that I can keep. A few hours ago it was just paper," Mello assured me.  
  
"Neeeeear," a loud groan came from around the side of the house. Mello and I looked over to find Matt clinging to the stucco, his head poking around the corner. Clearly, he'd known more people at this party than he'd thought he would. "Near, you gotta drive," he slurred.  
  
I bit back a smile and took Matt's keys, and Mello and I helped him into the back seat as he insisted on laying down.  
  
"Thanks for having us, I'm sorry I hogged you from Matt all evening," I told Mello as I walked him back to the porch. It wasn't far from the car, but I wasn't ready to leave him yet.  
  
"He looks like he had a good time. I had a better time, though," Mello said and smiled fondly at me. "Can I see your hand?"  
  
"Huh?" I asked, surprised. "Oh, sure." I held my palm out for him. He leaned down and pulled a miniature Sharpie marker from where it had been clipped to the collar of his combat boot. He took my hand and quickly wrote his phone number across my palm while I watched in awe.  
  
"Text me," he said simply, a hopeful smile on his lips.  
  
"I will," I promised. We looked at each other for a moment longer than most people would, before I finally, reluctantly said, "I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."  
  
"I'll be waiting. Drive safely."  
  
I permitted myself a wide smile as I walked back to the car, and even a giggle as Mello called after me, "And put your seatbelt on!"  
  
Matt was already fast asleep when I started driving us home, which was just as well because I would have been useless for a conversation that wasn't about Mello. He had talked with me for hours, never with an inkling of impatience or indifference. I looked at my left hand on the steering wheel and thought about Mello's number scrawled on the other side. My heart swelled up with warmth again.  
  
Upon arriving home, I helped Matt strip down to his boxers and climb into bed. "Thank you, Neary," he crooned after me, making me chuckle as I closed his door behind me.  
  
I felt like I was in a warm haze as I retreated to my room, and I quickly put Mello's number in my phone before it had a chance to fade. I decided to decorate his name with a heart emoji and a flame emoji- fitting, I thought. Now all I had to do was hold out until morning.  
  
Despite my general sobriety and how active my thoughts were, I found myself nodding off, and I finally decided to crawl under my comforter, the image of Mello's freckled, scarred, lovely face fresh on my mind as I drifted to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life through rose-colored glasses can only last so long. Near wants to draw it out for as long as he possibly can.

When I woke up, I found that my hand pressing against my face had caused the Sharpie to transfer from my palm onto my cheek. As fascinated as I was by Mello, I wasn't yet quite fond enough of him to leave his writing plastered across me like a billboard, so I spent my first waking minutes scrubbing the stuff off in the bathroom. I could hear Matt making coffee in the kitchen with the TV on in the living room. His immunity to hangovers never failed to surprise me.  
  
"Morning," he greeted me as I sat down at the bistro table in the breakfast nook. "I'm gonna make eggs, you want some?"  
  
"Nah, I'll just eat some cereal, thanks," I said around a yawn, fishing my phone from the pocket of my PJ pants and opening it to find Mello's number. I checked the time- ten minutes past ten. Was that too early? Mello had hosted a party the night before, after all...  
  
"So you had a good time last night?" Matt asked me, a suggestive tone in his voice.  
  
"Yeah, I did. Mello was much easier to talk to than I thought he would be," I answered, a smile finding its way to my lips.  
  
"Mhm, what else?" he asked expectantly, flashing his own smile at me as he opened the fridge.  
  
"Hm? Well, I showed him some origami..."  
  
"Ah, I see...," Matt trailed off, and I realized he must have thought that Mello and I had become...more acquainted in our time together.  
  
"He did give me his phone number," I added, and Matt smiled again.  
  
"'Atta boy," he said.  
  
"Speaking of," I mumbled, and decided that sending Mello a text wouldn't hurt. I tried to sound friendly without sounding too eager.  
  
_Hi, it's Near. Thanks again for having us over last night, I had a really nice time.  
_  
I hit 'Send' before I had enough time to think about it and change my mind. I sat my phone face-down on the table so that I didn't start obsessively checking it, but to my delight, I received a reply just a few moments later. I nearly fumbled my phone and dropped it as I swiped the message open.  
  
_of course! im glad you came. it was nice to finally meet you.  
_  
The last part made me blush a bit, but I told myself that was also something one said when one was just being polite. An ellipsis appeared, indicating that Mello was typing another message, and soon it popped up as well.  
  
_if you_   _arent_ _busy this morning would you want to get some tea with me?  
_  
"Ah!" I gasped, surprised. Color jumped quickly to my cheeks and Matt and I looked at each other. "He asked me to get tea with him."  
  
"Tea?" Matt asked incredulously, turning off the stove and plating his breakfast before coming to the table and craning to look at my phone. When he confirmed what I'd said, he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, cool. Are you gonna go?"  
  
"I guess so," I breathed, feeling dazed. Mello wanted to see me again already? Not that I minded, of course. I was really flattered by it, actually.  
  
_Sure! I can have Matt drop me off.  
_  
I don't know what made me say that. I guess I didn't want to impose on him. Mello again replied quickly.  
  
_i want to come pick you up. :)  
_  
I felt like I could have melted and slid out of my chair onto the tile of the floor. Everything Mello said, or even typed, had this way of bewitching me. It seemed like everything he said had a meaning that extended beyond the words he simply told me.  
  
I gave him our address just in case and told him I would be waiting for him, then I realized that I was still in my pajamas and rushed to get dressed. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt, pausing in front of the mirror on my closet door to smooth my bedhead to the best of my ability.  
  
"Mello's here," Matt called from the kitchen, and my stomach dropped, but in a good way.  
  
_That was quick,_ I thought, and at the front door I slid my shoes on before opening it.  
  
I saw Mello sitting there on a rumbling motorbike, the face shield of his helmet up to reveal his pearly, distracting smile.  
  
_No fucking way. There's no fucking way. He isn't real.  
_  
"Good morning, Near!" he greeted me over the engine, holding out a second full-face helmet for me. "Tell me if it fits okay."  
  
I'd never ridden a motorcycle or a motorbike or what have you, but Mello asking me to do it made the task feel easy. I took the helmet and pulled it over my head, glad that it could hide the bashful look on my face.  
  
"Shake your head around some," Mello instructed me. I did as he told, shaking my head up and down and side to side a couple of times. The helmet remained safely in place. "Good! Climb on."  
  
Heat rose up from deep within me as I looked at the space intended for me right behind Mello. Gulping, I put one leg over the bike and sat down, trying to allow as much room between us as possible. I gingerly put one hand on either of Mello's sides as he put his face shield down. He reached back and gently took my arm, pulling me flush against him and guiding my arm down, around his waist. I was certain he could feel my heart hammering through my chest against his back, but I held onto him anyway. He made a U-turn and headed down the street, in the direction of downtown.  
  
It was too loud for much conversation, so I tried to focus on the familiar passing buildings and landmarks along the main thoroughfare. Anything to distract me from how solid Mello's back was, how I could feel the warmth of his body through his leather jacket. It didn't really work, and my heart never really stopped stuttering, but the ride was graciously short. Mello slipped the bike easily into a parallel parking space near the tea shop, a place I had passed by several times but never ventured into. We shed our helmets and approached the shop.  
  
"This is probably my third favorite place in town, period," Mello told me as he held the door open for me. "Well, it's probably my first favorite right now."  
  
"Why right now?" I asked, curious.  
  
"Because you're here," he replied in that blatant way that rendered me unable to speak. I looked at him with wide eyes, and a dark blush flooding my face. But it didn't seem like he was making fun of me- he smiled fondly at me again, and as we stood in line, he touched the toe of his boot to the toe of my slip-on. It was a tiny gesture that came off as affectionate, but not overbearing. I genuinely couldn't tell if he was flirting with me or just trying to be my friend. Maybe both? Why hadn't I put more thought into this before coming to be completely alone with him, again? Soon we were next up in line.  
  
"Hi, Mello!" the young woman behind the register greeted him, smiling. So he really was a regular. They chatted for a moment before he ordered his purple oolong tea, and I played it safe and chose Darjeeling tea, something I already knew I liked.  
  
"Give us a couple of those chocolate muffins, too," Mello said as he handed over his credit card, not even allowing me the opportunity to reach for my wallet as he eyeballed the treats that had caught his attention from behind the display glass. After he paid, Mello smiled at me and nodded towards one of the tables at the far end of the cafe. "C'mon, they'll bring it to us."  
  
We sat down and I noticed for the first time how long Mello's legs were, lithe and comely as he crossed one knee over the other, putting an elbow on the table and his chin atop the back of his hand as he looked at me.  
  
"You must enjoy tea a lot," I blurted, suddenly feeling obligated to say something.  
  
"I didn't before, actually. This place kind of made me a believer, so to speak," Mello replied with a soft laugh. God, he was so charming. Everything about him beckoned me, and holding my distance felt like a clumsy balancing act.  
  
The girl from the register brought us a bamboo slab that held two small, glass loose-leaf teapots, accompanied by two glass mugs, and two chocolate muffins. Even if it had all tasted terrible, the shop would still get points for presentation in my book. We each poured a cup of our respective teas, my Darjeeling having turned a pretty pink color, and Mello's tea coming out a dark, deep purple.  
  
"Mmmm," Mello hummed as he took a deep whiff of his mug, and I watched as his lips puckered slightly to blow over the steaming surface of the liquid. He closed his eyes as he took the first sip, repeating the satisfied noise as he swallowed it down. "How's yours?"  
  
I jumped as I realized that again I'd been staring, and quickly blew on the tea before tasting it. The intense flavor surprised me, the warm floral taste sliding across my palate and down my throat. "Ah, so good," I answered with a contented smile.  
  
"Would you like to try mine?" Mello offered, pushing his mug towards me.  
  
"Oh, sure, thank you. Want to try mine, too?"  
  
"That's okay, I usually get Darjeeling," he replied offhandedly, but it made me blush again.  
  
"I see," I managed, trying not to let myself fall into a timid silence again. I picked up Mello's mug and smelled the musky aroma wafting from the tea. I could see a small smear on the edge of the glass where Mello's lips had touched it. Then I tried not stop noticing it. I took a sip of the tea, surprised at the cinnamon smoky flavor that it had. "Wow, that's almost like coffee. It's good."  
  
"Mhm! I like the Darjeeling, this, and their white peach tea," Mello listed off, taking his mug back to take a long drink from it. "Oh, sorry, do you like chocolate? I didn't even ask before I got you a muffin."  
  
"I do," I told him, reaching to break a chunk off of one of the muffins and put it in my mouth, carelessly licking the crumbs left behind off of the tip of my thumb. I noticed that Mello was watching me- watching my lips. His smile had fallen and he had this look of absorption in his eyes. Embarrassed, I glanced away and reached up to fiddle with one of my curls, a nervous habit I've always had. "Strawberry is my favorite, though," I went on, and I could see Mello look up at my eyes again.  
  
"Strawberry is good. I like strawberry ice cream with chocolate syrup on top," Mello said, looking as though the mention made him crave it.  
  
"So chocolate is your favorite then," I reasoned, smiling a bit.  
  
"Absolutely," Mello said. "Dark chocolate especially. I know it's not very sweet, but it tastes the best to me. I can't stand white chocolate, it's like it's all cream. Milk chocolate is alright."  
  
"A chocolate epicurean, I see."  
  
"Something like that. Mostly I just know what I like." He smiled at me again, and I tried to keep up.  
  
"Better to have what you like than to be unsure," I agreed.  
  
"Are you unsure, Near?" Mello's smile fell a bit when he asked, his friendly expression became a look of something else. The blue in his eyes seemed to darken. It made me feel twisted up inside.  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked softly.  
  
"Are you unsure about what you like?"  
  
My heart jumped into my throat, cutting off my speech, so I wordlessly shook my head. Mello grinned little more.  
  
"That's good. That's important," he told me. I didn't ask what it was important for. I didn't ask what he meant by 'what I like'.  
  
"What do you like, Mello?" I asked him when I could finally speak again.  
  
"Hmm," Mello said thoughtfully, letting the possibilities of what he would say hang in the air. "I like...throwing pottery. I like the way clay feels when it's still wet, and can slide easily between your fingers. Your turn."  
  
"Hm?" I asked.  
  
"Your turn to tell me something you like."  
  
"Oh," I murmured, thinking about it for a moment. "Ah...well, I like television shows about unsolved crimes. I watch them a lot, usually on my own because Matt can't stand them."  
  
"I like those shows too," Mello told me with a smile. I smiled back, and we continued like that for a while, going back and forth giving examples of things we liked and why we liked them.  
Mello liked warm weather, painting his nails, and watching movies. His favorite was Pulp Fiction. He told me that dogs were his favorite animal.  
  
I told him I liked puzzles, then I told him I liked strawberry lemonade. He let me enthuse about my favorite medical journal, and he didn't make fun of me once, not even later when I mentioned my collection of Transformers figures. These were all things that were important to me, and I hadn't even realized it until I was sharing them with Mello.  
  
I didn't check the clock once, but we talked long enough to empty each of our teapots and get refills of hot water on top of our tea leaves. I was halfway through that second pot when Matt's ringtone chimed in my pocket.  
  
"Ah, sorry, that's Matt," I apologized, pulling my phone out.  
  
_im going out, do u want me to leave the key under the mat for u or?¿?¿ are u having a good time  
_  
A smile touching my lips, I replied,  
  
_Yes please! And yes, Mello is really nice.  
_  
Matt replied with a winking emoji as I silenced my phone and put it away. "Sorry about that," I said again, and Mello waved his hand.  
  
"No worries. Is Matt expecting you home soon?" he asked behind a thinly veiled concern that our engagement would be ending soon.  
  
"No, nothing like that, he just wanted to tell me he was heading out," I answered, smiling a bit more when I saw relief lower Mello's shoulders a hair.  
  
"Good, because I'm not ready to let you go yet," he told me in a way that sounded casual, because Mello never sounded put-on or premeditated, but it made me flush and look away all the same.  
  
My eyes fell on the opposite wall of the cafe, which seemed to have filled up and grown busy around us. I hadn't even noticed. Nor had I noticed the lovely paintings on the wall, I realized. Paintings of bridges and a lonely boat on the surface of a dismal lake. Another painting featured a sunflower field that stretched on and on until tiny yellow flecks were all that remained. I looked at them for a while longer, now genuinely interested.  
  
"Wow, those are are really good," I commented, and Mello followed my gaze.  
  
"Oh, yeah! Those are Linda's paintings. She's in a couple of my classes," he informed me.  
  
"You know this artist?" I asked, impressed.  
  
Mello grinned at me. "I've had paintings up here too, y'know."  
  
"Really?" I asked admiringly. "Mello, that's so cool!"  
  
I was startled to see a pleased blush come to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tip of his nose a beautiful rosy color that made me feel like I must have been blind before I'd seen it.  
"You're just being sweet," he insisted, but a smile still played across his lips.  
  
"No, I mean it. I wish they were still here so I could see them," I said. _Though I do want to be sweet to you,_ I thought.  
  
Mello looked at me for a moment, his smile growing wider. "You really want to see them?"  
  
I nodded quickly.  
  
And just like that, Mello was taking me to his house, the same small place I had visited the night before. This time, we used the front door, and I noticed how different the place looked in the light of day. It was delicately decorated with what seemed to be secondhand furniture and various knick-knacks that must have been tucked away the previous evening. The blacklights were still there, screwed into the walls, but they were off, and the house was instead full of this nostalgic sort of light that reminded me, weirdly enough, of my great aunt's house. The thought of Mello perusing the local Goodwill aisles for his newest treasures the same way she did made me smile, but seemed realistic enough by the looks of his decorations. He even had a kitchen mat and hand towels with roosters on them.  
  
"I shop like I was born in the thirties, I know," he said when I noticed them, making me giggle.  
  
"Better than a bunch of degrading posters of girls like most guys our age," I pointed out.  
  
"I don't really like girls," Mello said simply as he led me down the hallway, and I was glad he wasn't facing me to see my face going red.  
  
_There's no way. He wouldn't ever like me. I'm the most uninteresting person he's probably ever met, why would he ever like me? He rides a motorcycle and he drinks purple tea and he paints for cafes and he_ _\--  
_  
Mello opened the door he'd led me to and I was met with his bedroom. I didn't realize it was his bedroom, though, until I saw the full-sized mattress sitting on its box spring and shoved into a corner to allow room for...everything else.  
  
This room, like the rest of the house, had hardwood floors, but Mello had covered the floor of his room with blue tarps and bolts of drop cloths that could have started as any color, really, but were now a mish-mash. Two of the walls had tarps taped up on them waist-high. In another corner, I saw a pottery wheel, a clay-caked bucket and stool beside it. All along the walls were canvases stacked against each other, some blank, some so full of color and movement I could almost feel them willing my body to shift. On an easel towards the back of the room, next to a stool with a quietly playing CD radio, was a canvas with a half-finished painting of a woman wearing glittering, intricate jewelry that dripped from her neck and skinny wrists, and each finger had several rings stacked onto it. The faceted jewels were different hues of dark green and blue, giving the impression of a dark sea captured in glass. Her eyes were wide and looked urgent, as though she might try to leap from the image at any second.  
  
"Sorry for the mess," Mello said somewhat sheepishly, stepping around me to look through canvases, making noises as he looked at different pieces. I couldn't help but stare at him because it was at that very moment that I realized that I was going to fall in love with Mello. It thrilled me and scared me as I watched him, heard him 'tsk' or 'ah' and pause at his own work. It was like I was seeing everything for the first time.  
  
"Here we go," he said at last, snapping me out of my trance. "These were up in the cafe for a few weeks." I blinked quickly and focused my attention on the canvases he lined up for me. One was a black cat stretching along a windowsill, and looking at it for a moment longer I realized it was the window in Mello's kitchen. The cat had glistening fur, and the swoop of its spine was so organic I felt compelled to pet it.  
  
The other painting looked like Mello, but younger, and he looked across his shoulder at the viewer with eyes impossibly wide. At first, the painting seemed quite tame, with a soft blue background decorated by tiny cream-colored flowers in the corners. Upon closer inspection, though, it looked almost violent. Instead of the cool blue color of Mello's eyes, this self-portrait had red, watery pupils, and an uncomfortable smile. I looked a bit closer and saw the finer details- Mello had painted the faintest trail, the insinuation of fishing line. Though obscured slightly by perspective, I made out the thin fishing hooks made to be pulling the boy's mouth into its agonized position. My chest felt tight as I looked at it, and I wondered what made Mello decide to use himself for this depiction.  
  
"These are amazing," I breathed, and I meant it. I looked at Mello and saw him smiling rather proudly, as if my praise had anything to do with the quality of his work.  
  
"I'm really glad you like them. Sometimes it seems like...I don't know, like people glance at something and think it's nice and then it's over, you know? They're happy enough with thinking it's nice, but if they looked just a little closer, it's...," Mello trailed off, his eyes cutting away from me briefly. "It's ugly. That's why I think it's special when you can see all of something and still like it."  
  
"Mello...," I murmured, feeling spellbound by his gaze. Suddenly I heard the distinct sound of the beginning of Louis Armstrong's trumpet solo for "La Vie en Rose" coming from the radio behind us, and without thinking, I said, "Ah!"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Sorry, I like this song," I said dazedly.  
  
"Really? Me too. It's on this mix I use when I'm painting," Mello said, a soft, fond smile coming to his lips. He turned to twist the volume up a few notches on the radio, elevating it just above gentle background noise. My heart thudded when Mello held out a hand to me, my insides quivering nervously as I took his hand and found it cool, dry, and just a little rough.  
  
I felt like my breath was being sucked out of me as Mello drew me close, pressed me against him, and put his other hand around my waist. Instinctively, I brought my free hand up to his shoulder, and Mello looked down at me with a tenderness that made my heart ache. Crimson, I looked away and set my head on his chest. Joy spread throughout me when I felt Mello press his cheek against my hair.  
"I'll be honest," Mello began softly as we danced, another skill I wouldn't have imagined him to possess. He was so endlessly fascinating to me then. "Ever since I laid my eyes on you last night..."  
  
_Is this really happening?_ I thought. _Is he really...?  
_  
"I've been thinking that I've never wanted to know someone so badly. I've never seen someone who looked like art so effortlessly."  
  
My whole body going warm, on a knee-jerk reaction I said, "I'm not art."  
  
Mello halted us a pulled back a bit, letting go of me to take my face in his hands. His palms were gentle against my cheeks, and when I met his gaze, his eyes were soft.  
  
"You're right," he murmured. "You're more than art, Near. So much more. There isn't a word that could hold in all of the beauty that you are."  
  
My heart felt like a flower coming into bloom, and it started jumping when I realized that Mello was leaning in closer to me. I pushed myself up on my toes and met his lips, my eyes falling closed as my hands found their way to hold onto the front of Mello's shirt. He moved his hands around to the back of my head, kissing me chastely for a blessed few moments before pulling away.  
  
"I've never kissed anyone," I blurted out after a short silence, and Mello chuckled softly.  
  
"Then I'm honored to be the first," he said.  
  
He seemed cool- adoring but unaffected. On the other hand, my fingers were tingling and my heart was beating so hard I worried that Mello would see it through my shirt.  
  
"Would you...," I began, losing my nerve halfway through the sentence.  
  
"Hm?" Mello asked patiently.  
  
"Would you kiss me again?"  
  
Mello smiled a bit more and leaned down, his hands gently cradling either side of my head. Our lips met and I pressed back a bit more, shivering as I felt Mello's tongue trace along my lower lip, coaxing my mouth open. A soft sound left me as Mello kissed me deeply, and at that point, I could have sworn I felt him trembling. He drew a few more sighs and purrs from me as he sucked and gently bit my lips until the sound of his phone ringing interrupted us.  
  
"Oh my god," Mello grumbled, quickly fishing out his phone from his jacket pocket. He looked at the screen and frowned more. "Sorry, one second," he sighed, answering the phone and stepping into the hallway.  
  
My legs felt like jelly, and I moved to sit on the edge of Mello's bed. A different song was playing now, a French one that I didn't recognize. Mello had left the taste of pot smoke and sugar on my tongue, and I was painfully aware of the absence of him against me. I still felt like I was drifting through a warm fog when he came back into the room, smiling sheepishly.  
  
"Near, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot that I had an appointment I had set up for today," Mello apologized.  
  
"Ah, it's okay!" I assured him, standing up despite the residual dizziness I was still feeling.  
  
"I don't want you to think I'm trying to make you leave," Mello said rather seriously, coming closer to wrap his arms around me. He embraced me with no hesitation, and I found it easy to lean into him.  
  
"I didn't think you were. Mello's pretty sweet, I think," I told him, a small smile coming to my lips. Mello smiled back and leaned to kiss my forehead, making me melt.  
  
"Let's get you home."

 

We spent fifteen minutes saying goodbye on my porch.  
  
Mello thanked me for going out for tea with him, and I thanked him for paying and, more importantly, sharing one of his favorite places with me. Then I thanked him for showing his paintings to me, too. Then he leaned down and kissed me for a while, and I wished I could have invited him inside.  
  
"Can I see you tomorrow?" he breathed after he pulled away.  
  
"Well, I work in the morning," I told him, my hands on his wrists as he held my face. "But I'm free in the afternoon."  
  
Mello smiled brightly, and the idea that he was already excited to see me again made my heart swell.  
  
"Text me when you want me to come over, then," he told me, and I nodded, returning his smile. He kissed me on the forehead again and held onto my hand until our fingers slipped out of reach as he left the porch.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow," I called softly to him.  
  
"See you," Mello replied as he returned to his bike. I watched him as he pulled on his helmet and waved goodbye as he pulled away, dismayed to find that I missed him already. Feeling a bit gloomy despite the butterflies in my stomach, I retrieved the key to the front door from under the welcome mat and went inside, leaving the door unlocked for when he would return.  
  
I could think of nothing but Mello. I went to my room to lay on my bed, pulling out my phone to scroll through my song library. I played "La Vie en Rose" when I found it.  
  
Matt came home about half an hour later, and he knocked gently on my half-open door before sticking his head inside. "Hey."  
  
"Hi," I greeted him, sitting up and offering a smile.  
  
"So you and Mello had a good time?" he asked me. He sounded different than when he had talked to me that morning.  
  
"Yeah, I think I might really like him," I admitted, my smile growing a little. Matt smiled back, but it didn't touch his eyes.  
  
"That's good, I'm really happy for you. I just...," he trailed off. I tilted my head a bit as he restarted the sentence several times, and finally, he sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt, I mean. You're my best friend."  
  
"Why would I get hurt?" I asked incredulously.  
  
"Well...," Matt mumbled. "Mello is a great guy, but he's...sensitive, y'know? He's a romantic. He...falls in love a lot."  
  
"He falls in love a lot," I echoed.  
  
"I mean...he thinks he's in love until he's not anymore. You know what I mean?"  
  
After a long silence, my smile having fallen away, I said, "I understand."  
  
"I mean, I don't think you should tell him to fuck off or anything," Matt said quickly, "I just don't want you to buy into every single one of his promises like I've seen other people do. If he does something bad to you, I'll have to beat his ass, after all." He offered me a smile and I forced one back for him.  
  
"Of course you will," I replied with a soft chuckle.  
  
"Hey, you wanna smoke?"  
  
"No, that's okay."  
  
"Alright...I'm in my room if you need me."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Matt looked at me for a few more moments before letting himself out and shutting my bedroom door behind him. I paused the music coming from my phone and stared up at the ceiling, feeling significantly colder than I did before.  
  
I closed my eyes and prayed that Mello was not too good to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading chapter two of Saudade! i really dont think ive ever had this much fun writing something so i hope its as enjoyable for you to read as it is for me to write. please let me know what you think in the comments!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love conquers all things, doesn't it? Doesn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for a sexual encounter!!

Sleep did not come to me easily that night. I tossed and turned under my comforter for a few hours before sitting up in frustration and turning to my laptop, choosing instead to sit in the glow of a few Transformers episodes I had torrented before I was actually tired enough to nod off.  
  
The show was incredibly nostalgic for me, with its cheesy voice acting and familiar storylines that I could afford to only halfway follow. Still, it only held my attention for so long, and I would occasionally go through the cycle of remembering my kiss with Mello only to come crashing down again at the memory of Matt's warning.  
  
_He falls in love a lot._  
  
_He thinks he's in love until he's not anymore._  
  
_If he does something bad to you..._  
  
I didn't want to know what 'something bad' might be, but it continued bouncing around in my head until I fell into a sleep that only lasted for a couple of hours and didn't leave me feeling any more rested than I had before.  
  
Finally, I decided to get started on my work inbox so I would meet my daily quota early. I stared down at my hands, poised over my keyboard as I thought about whether all of my worrying and Matt's words should have deterred me from wanting to see Mello again. But they didn't. Something nagged at me, and I wonder now if there was a part of me that simply knew.  
  
I shook the feeling away and started my work. Around six, about an hour later, I heard Matt in the kitchen turning on the coffee pot. He was getting ready for work, I assumed; a few mornings out of the week, Matt spent the early hours of the day doing prep work for a popular restaurant downtown. At first, the hours and frequent cuts on his hands made him complain, but soon he'd adjusted to the schedule and he stopped coming home with band-aids on his fingers.  
  
I decided to venture into the kitchen as well, where Matt was pouring his coffee into a tumbler to take with him. He looked different with his hair pinned out of his face and his white apron on, but the little smile on his lips when he saw me was unmistakably his.  
  
"You're up early. You want some coffee?" he asked. "I can brew another pot."  
  
For some reason, Matt being nice to me left me feeling a little overwhelmed. Maybe my feelings were more mixed up than I'd realized. Chasing away the sudden lump in my throat, I answered, "That's alright. I wanted to ask a favor, though."  
  
"Sure, what's up?"  
  
"Could you leave me some weed and something to smoke out of before you go to work?"  
  
Matt glanced at me, surprised, but he nodded. "Of course. You know you could have been asking me that this whole time, right? You can always smoke without me if you want."  
  
"This is the first time I've wanted to smoke it on my own accord, to be honest. I slept like shit last night, and I just feel...wound up."  
  
Matt nodded again, understandingly this time. "I completely understand. Hold on."  
  
He disappeared into his room, returning with his lockbox and the tiny key for it. "Everything's in there, I'm sure you won't smoke a whole quarter ounce on your own but if you do you owe me big time," Matt teased me, giving me a wink.  
  
"Thanks, Matt," I said, and I really meant it.  
  
"Of course. I should probably get out of here, the boss said if I'm late again he's gonna knock my hours down."  
  
I thought about stopping him and asking him what he'd meant about Mello. But I didn't. We said our goodbyes and he left, and I was standing alone in the kitchen, feeling the emptiness of the house for the first time since the first few months we'd lived there. I didn't want to go to my room, where I was nowhere near done with my work for the day, and I didn't want to go in the living room to sit by myself with Matt's games and consoles and end up wishing I had stopped him.  
  
So, instead, I sat cross-legged in the middle of the kitchen, the lockbox in my lap as I fiddled with the key for a moment to get it open. As promised, Matt's pipe, grinder, lighter, and stash were all there for me. Packing a bowl took me longer than it would have taken Matt- he had a knack for piling his weed into the middle of his palm to easily transfer it into his bowl, but I hadn't mastered this quite yet- as I pinched small amounts between my thumb and forefinger to sprinkle it into the pipe. At last, I had a decent amount, and I brought the lighter's flame to it with an unfamiliar sort of eagerness.  
  
As usual, the first bowl had me relaxed enough to let my shoulders fall a bit, and a headache I hadn't even known I'd had was ebbing away. By the second bowl, I was leaning against the fridge and thinking about the Transformers episodes I had only sort of watched the night before. On the third bowl, my mind finally settled on Mello, and I didn't shy away from it.  
  
I thought about the painting sitting half-finished on his easel in his bedroom, and the sound of his feet on the tarp below his bed when he first woke up. I wondered if he was an early bird or a night owl. I wondered if he ate breakfast like Matt or if he was like me and put it off until he felt his stomach going empty. I wondered if he was sitting in his kitchen smoking a bowl and thinking about me.  
  
I wondered if he was thinking about hurting me or if it was something he wouldn't be able to help. I wondered if I was only a passing fascination that he would lose interest in eventually. I wondered all of these things until they had managed to make me feel sick and I retreated to my room, a fresh bowl packed for when I reached my halfway point for my workday.  
  
I only worked for about another hour and a half before I heard my phone chime from where it was plugged in and stuffed under my pillow. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my fingers out to reach it and tug it off of the charger, feeling my chest go tight when I saw Mello's name on my lock screen.  
  
_i know its early, but i cant stop thinking about you._  
  
I stared at the message for a long time, that ill feeling replaced by something bigger and less recognizable. Maybe it was the insobriety, but I replied before I had a chance to really consider what I was saying.  
  
_Me too. I can't wait to see you again._  
  
I was more than pleased to see that Mello read it immediately, and his reply came quickly.  
  
_did_ _i wake you up? im sorry_  
  
I smiled at the screen, brushing my thumb over the words. Mello didn't seem like an unkind person. He was certainly never unkind to me. Was I really risking anything by wanting to be close to him?  
  
_No, I couldn't sleep so I've been up for a while anyway. I'm happy you're texting me._  
  
_arent you tired?_  
  
_Not really. I'd rather talk with you anyway._  
  
_do you want me to come over?_  
  
I blinked at the question, glancing at my computer screen and noting that I had just begun the second half of my work inbox. I tossed the idea around in my head, trying to decide if putting off the rest of my work until the next day would have been irresponsible. Probably, I reasoned, but I wanted to see Mello again. Talking to him seemed to be the only thing that made me feel less twisted up inside.  
  
_Yes! Please come hang out._  
  
A few moments later, Mello replied,  
  
_ill be there soon! im going to bring some stuff ♥_  
  
I couldn't stop myself from giggling, tickled pink by the tiny heart Mello had included in his message. Even something as small as that made me start feeling a bit warmer inside.  
  
I closed out of my work program and tidied up my room before getting dressed. I started feeling excited as I moved around my room, realizing that this would be the first time Mello would see our house. I decided to knock out the half-full sink of dishes too, and I even swept the front entryway to make it look more presentable. Soon, feeling bad for ditching work was the furthest thing from my mind.  
  
When I heard a soft knocking on the front door from my room, my socked feet nearly slid me into the wall as I scrambled to answer. My fingers were twitchy but I ignored it as I reached for the doorknob, opening the door and finding Mello standing on the other side, my heart stuttering in a way that was becoming synonymous with laying my eyes on him.

  
He had his bookbag on his shoulder, and his bright smile pierced right through me. I was sure that I would feel that way every time I saw him, and in a way, I was right.  
  
"Hi," Mello said, reaching to place an unwavering hand against my cheek. I leaned into the touch without a second thought.  
  
"Good morning," I greeted him in a somewhat breathy voice. I shuffled back a bit to let him in the entryway, and we stood there for a moment, his fingers caressing my cheeks and my eyes falling closed to their movements. Surely someone who handles me so carefully won't hurt me, I assured myself.  
  
"I never would have thought that Matt lived in such a clean place," Mello spoke up finally, and I looked up at him.  
  
"Well, you should see his room. It's more computer parts than furniture," I said.  
  
"Sounds about right. What about your room?"  
  
"It's this way," I answered, nodding for Mello to follow me. He reached to link our fingers together as he walked behind me, making my heart flutter. I'd never been the object of such close, casual affection, and Mello seemed rather versed in giving it.  
  
I had never liked anyone so much. I'm sure I never will again.  
  
I knew my room was nothing like the magic of Mello's own space- my room was small, with just my desk on one wall and my bed on the other. All along the back of my desk, I had all of my Transformers G1 figures still mint in their boxes, and that was about it as far as decoration. I guess you could have also counted the fairy lights on the wall above my bed, but I only used them because the overhead light at night was far too harsh for my liking.  
  
"What a cute bedroom!" Mello said as he walked to the center of the room, grinning at a reflection of us in the mirror that hung on my closet door. "I can't help but think it must be nice to be able to touch the floor at your leisure."  
  
"Hm?" I asked but quickly remembered that Mello probably hadn't felt his bedroom floor without a piece of plastic above it in a while. "It certainly helps me know when it's time to sweep, anyway."  
  
Mello laughed and settled himself on my bed, a sight that made redness jump to my cheeks despite his fully-clothed state. "So I brought a few things," he began, pulling his bookbag to his side and opening it up. He withdrew a small wooden box, a book that was bulging almost beyond being able to close, a purple Crown Royal bag, and a few DVDs.  
  
"We've got _Pulp Fiction_ , _The Shining_ , _Nosferatu_ , and _Young Frankenstein_. I wasn't sure of your cinema preferences so I tried for a mix," he told me, and I beamed.  
  
_So thoughtful. So sweet. So interesting._  
  
"And of course I brought party favors," Mello went on, giving me a peek into his Crown Royal bag. It was stuffed full of those hand-rolled blunts that Mello had kept in his cigar case the night of his party.  
  
"That's a lot of weed to roll up," I said, impressed.  
  
"Well, I've gotten to where I can do it pretty quickly, that's all," Mello explained. I moved to sit next to him as he opened the wooden box in his lap, revealing a small watercolor set, a few black pens and some brushes, and several bronze signet rings. Upon closer inspection, I could see that the rings were handpainted- their flat surfaces featured delicate, detailed paintings of bloodshot eyes and bloodied lips and teeth. One of them had a painting of a tiny ribcage that looked to have been picked clean, though the bones were still stained with the remnants of some kind of violence.  
  
"You made these?" I asked him, looking closer at the rings.  
  
"I painted them," Mello answered, smiling that proud smile he'd shown me when I'd complimented his cafe works. "I wanted to give you a couple."  
  
"Me?" I blurted disbelievingly. Mello laughed and put an arm around me, drawing me against him.  
  
"Of course. I want to give my darling something special," he told me, looking at me with an expression that stalled my heart and riled everything else inside of me.  
  
_His darling?_  
  
"So...one of these?" I asked softly, now pointing shyly at the rings. Mello nodded.  
  
"More than one, if you want," he added.  
  
I looked for a few moments, finally deciding on the one with the wide, red eye, and one with a pair of lips dripping with a lovely maroon blood. I wore them both on my right hand, one on my middle finger and one on my ring finger. I cherished them on my hand, swelling with some fond emotion I hadn't known I wanted to feel until that moment.  
  
"I love them, Mello, thank you," I said, and I really meant it. I leaned my head against his shoulder, and the feeling inside my bloomed further when he reached out to take my hand, admiring the rings on my fingers.  
  
"You look so cool with them, Near," he told me, his voice lightly teasing in a way that made me blush and grin.  
  
"I'm not cool," I replied, and Mello wrapped his arms around me to give me a squeeze.  
  
"I think you are," he murmured against my hair, so close to my ear I felt his breath and it made me shiver. He placed a small kiss there and I was sure I was going to melt into a puddle against his body. "Do you want to watch a movie with me?"  
  
"Y-yeah, of course," I said, my voice a little quieter than I'd intended.  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"Ah, _The Shining_ is the only one I've never seen before."  
  
"You've never seen _The Shining_?" Mello asked incredulously. "I mean, no offense, but it's a really good movie, and I'm sort of offended."  
  
I snickered, his playfulness rubbing off on me quickly. "Well, I'll have you know I've avoided watching it this long for the express purpose of offending you, and I'm glad it worked."  
  
"Near, you devil," Mello said, squeezing me again before releasing me to set the movie up on my laptop.  
  
We ended up sitting on my bed with our backs against the wall, and I willingly unmade my bed to lay the comforter over us. Mello was always either holding my hand or rubbing my thigh, except when he would sometimes turn to the bulging book he'd kept next to him to scribble something down before returning his attention to the movie.  
  
He pointed out all of his favorite parts to me, and he told me little bits of trivia about the film as they came up. I loved watching him and listening to him. He seemed to be a well of passion and intrigue that never dried up, and I welcomed it as though dying from dehydration.  
  
Towards the end of the movie, after Jack and Grady have their exchange in the bathroom, Mello nudged me to bring my attention to the book in his lap. I realized immediately that this was actually his sketchbook, and that his glancing away from the movie held a purpose.  
  
On one of the pages, I recognized a sketch of myself, haphazard curls and pouting lips and all. It looked like I was smiling. Had I been smiling? Had I even noticed?  
  
"Mello," I breathed. "Why--"  
  
"Because you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and my hands would have been useless for the rest of my life if I hadn't captured that look on your face," Mello told me, meeting my eyes with an adoring smile.  
  
"Mello," I said again, my voice trembling a bit this time.  
  
"Yes, dearest?"  
  
"Kiss me, please."  
  
Mello smiled wider, leaning in to kiss me gently, slowly, his lips working against me to make me a pliable, docile being against him. When he withdrew, I made a soft noise of defiance, making his eyebrows raise.  
  
"More," I said softly, my face going hot as I said it. I saw something in Mello's eyes darken and he leaned in again, kissing me harder this time. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, and he used the gasp it elicited from me to slide his tongue against mine. My hands made their way up to fist into Mello's shirt, and I felt his fingers slip into my hair, brushing gently against my scalp. I shivered against his body and a sound like a hungry growl came from Mello, something that made my stomach twist up in a desire I'd never felt before.  
  
I was so lost in kissing Mello that I didn't notice he'd been leaning me back until I was laying on the bed underneath him, his body pressing against me deliciously.  
  
"I-I haven't...ever...," I trailed off against his lips, my eyes going half-lidded and my breath coming more shallowly than before.  
  
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Mello replied. "Do you want me to stop now?"  
  
I shook my head quickly and Mello chuckled softly.  
  
"Well, then, is it alright if I do something like this?" he asked, and he rolled his hips against mine. I became suddenly aware of how we were both straining hard, and the friction between us made both of us give a small cry.  
  
"Please, please," I panted softly, shifting my hips to try and repeat the movement. Mello grinned down at me, honestly looking as though he wanted to consume me. He leaned down to kiss the corner of my lips, then my jaw, then below my ear.  
  
"What a good boy," he breathed, and a shudder racked my entire body at the praise. Mello's hips ground against me slowly, firmly, and every time I felt the stiffness of his cock against mine I felt that I was being driven farther and farther away from the edge of rational thought.  
  
"M-Mello, it...it feels too good," I whined, my fingers now digging sharply into the skin of Mello's firm shoulders.  
  
"You want more?" he asked. I nodded. "Then you're going to have to beg for it."  
  
I looked up at Mello with wide eyes, my heart hammering in my chest at the direction. I had never so much as kissed anyone else, and he was asking me for something I had never even thought of on my own. And yet, with him flush against me, with my lips swollen from his kisses and my body on fire from his mere presence, my nervousness was easily overcome.  
  
"Please, Mello," I positively purred, "please touch me more."  
  
Mello's face fell into an expression that I can only describe as ravenous. His hands slid under my shirt, pushing it up a bit, and I gasped at the sensation of his fingers brushing my nipples. One hand stayed put to tease my chest while the other slid downwards, making quick work of the button and zipper on my jeans.  
  
"Wait, wait," I said softly, and he quickly looked up at me with genuine concern. "No, don't stop, just...I want both of us to...you know..."  
  
Mello's grin returned, and he leaned up to kiss my nose. "You sure are sweet, aren't you?" he said, moving to kiss my lips this time. My eyes fell shut but I felt him moving around between us, and I felt my jeans and underwear move down. Suddenly, I felt Mello's hand wrap around me, and something else...  
  
My eyes snapped open and I looked down to see Mello's long fingers around both of our cocks, squeezing them a bit as he stroked us in time. I couldn't help but stare, careless whimpers and moans falling freely from my lips.  
  
"Do you like that, Near? You like to watch me touch you?" Mello asked me in a dark, soft voice. "You see how much it turns me on, too...you like that as well, don't you?"  
  
I could only whine in response, my toes curling and my head falling back against the mattress as Mello's hand twisted in a way that made my frame tremble relentlessly. He kissed my lips, my cheeks, my eyes, as he praised me and worked me over lovingly. It was quickly becoming too much, though, and I felt the familiar tightening low in my body beginning. To my surprise and absolute excitement, I could feel Mello shaking against me as well, and his face was red with the nearing of our completion.  
  
I came first, crying out Mello's name as I clung firmly to him. He came seconds later, a long moan leaving him followed by a chorus of, "Fuck, fuck, Near, fuck."  
  
We laid there for a while, Mello on top of me, panting and slowly releasing us. I could feel his bangs against my collarbone, the slightest bit of sweat wetting them.  
  
"I can go get a towel," I offered softly, reaching to stroke through the blonde softness of Mello's hair.  
  
"It's okay, I'll do it, my darling."  
  
I smiled at the pet name and watched Mello as he stood a disappeared into the hallway, returning from the bathroom with a hand towel that he cleaned both of us up with before tossing it in the hamper in the corner of my room. I stayed still as he pulled my boxers and jeans up for me as well, his fingers deftly buttoning them before he turned his attention to his own pants, zipping and buttoning them again as well. Then we laid next to each other, Mello's arms around me and our legs tangled in a full-body embrace.  
  
"I've never felt this way about anyone before," I finally said in a soft voice.  
  
"Neither have I," Mello said.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Never."  
  
I fell silent again, unable to shake Matt's words from the night before out of my head. After a while, I ventured, "I just thought...since you've been with more people than I have, you know?"  
  
Now Mello looked down at me with an arched brow. "How'd you know I've been with more people?" he asked, and I realized that he'd never once mentioned a past relationship to me. I flushed and looked away, somewhat mortified.  
  
"W-well, just...wow, I feel stupid now, I...Matt and I were talking last night, and he just...," I stammered.  
  
"What did Matt have to say about me?" Mello asked, his voice surprisingly patient.  
  
"Just...he said that you're a sensitive, romantic kind of person, is all. He could see how much I like you, and I guess he didn't want me to act without thinking first. I don't think you would ever do anything bad to me, though," I assured him.  
  
Mello sighed deeply, but he didn't move away from me. In fact, he gave me a light squeeze.  
  
"Matt's a good guy. And he's right to be worried about you hanging out with me," he confessed, and I felt myself go cold.  
  
Did he have a boyfriend already? A girlfriend, even? Was he leaving the state? The country?  
  
"I wanted to tell you, I just wasn't sure when, because I didn't want you to think a certain way about me," Mello went on. "I'm sure Matt wanted to tell you to be careful but he didn't want to snitch on me, which is nice of him, so he decided that I'm 'sensitive'. What a load."  
  
I said nothing, still feeling on edge as I waited in the shadow of whatever bombshell Mello was slowly lowering onto my head.  
  
"Anyway, it's just, well...I sell cocaine. There, I said it. If anyone in this town does cocaine, they get it from me. That's all."  
  
I blinked, surprised by how little I cared about this secret that, as far as I was concerned, mattered about as much as Mello's shoe size.  
  
"Is that all?" I asked finally, and Mello laughed.  
  
"Yes, that's all. You don't even care, do you?" he asked, and I smiled as I shook my head.  
  
"Of course not. I just like you," I said, and he drew me close for a kiss.  
  
"You're so cool, Near," he sighed. "Why can't everyone be like you?"  
  
"If everyone was like me, you'd end up liking them, too. And then we'd really have problems," I said, and Mello snickered again.  
  
"Don't worry. There's no one I like more than you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK UUUU for reading chapter 3! im sorry its a bit late, the holidays set me back a little bit im afraid lol. this chapter is a little shorter than the last two but im hoping the sweetness between mello and near made up for it a little bit :') we're going to be getting into the nitty-gritty of the plot themes soon, i hope you'll stick around to see what's next! as always thank u so much and feedback is always welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If only love protected us the way we'd hoped it would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for attempted sexual assault

I couldn't fight the intrusive fear that Mello had gotten what he wanted from me and was subsequently going to disappear from my life.  
  
Even though he'd ended up staying with me all day, even though he'd held me close through two more movies and given me his full attention all the while. The only time our conversation paused was for us to kiss for a while, or when Matt came in and poked his head in my door to say hi to both of us.  
  
I figured he couldn't have been too worried, because he didn't bother hiding that dopey grin he got on his face whenever I was doing something that entertained him. I realized he hadn't seen Mello and me together yet and now here we were, nestled together on my bed. To him, it probably was quite a sight.  
  
When he finally left my side, as I stood alone on the porch and watched him go, I felt that immediate longing for him that was quickly becoming familiar. It had been too long since he'd kissed me, even though he'd done it only a minute before. It had been too long since he'd held me, even though he'd already held me for hours.  
  
Glumly, I went back inside, and upon hearing the front door close, Matt beckoned me to his room. As usual, he was at his desk, his back to both of the computer monitors there as he waited for me.  
  
"What's up?" I asked him, trying not to sound too bummed out.  
  
"So you and Mello are, like, an item now?" Matt asked plainly. He said it in such a way that not having an immediate answer made me feel a bit flustered.  
  
"Well, I mean...," I trailed off before I finally managed, "We definitely like each other."  
  
Matt nodded, and I saw a small smile touch the edge of his lips. "I just want you to be careful, is all."  
  
"What with my drug dealing companion and everything," I replied, and now Matt allowed himself a smile.  
  
"He told you?" he asked, and I nodded. "That's good. I didn't like the idea of him keeping that from you. I mean, Mello isn't stupid, but that doesn't mean he doesn't deal with some stupid people."  
  
I went quiet, suddenly preoccupied with another thought.  
  
"So does Mello really get around all that often, then?" I said finally. Matt raised his eyebrows at me, then seemed to remember what he'd told me about Mello being 'sensitive' and 'romantic'.  
  
"Don't you think it's interesting that you care more about that than the fact that Mello is actually committing crimes on a daily basis?" he asked me. I fell silent, and eventually Matt decided to answer my question. "He used to. But he kept saying hooking up was boring him, so he stopped. Until now, I guess."  
  
I wanted to insist that Mello and I weren't hooking up, but when I realized that wasn't exactly the truth, I decided it best to keep my mouth shut. I guess I turned red, too, because Matt started laughing at me.  
  
"I've never seen you look so _guilty,_ " he teased me.  
  
"Oh, shut up," I replied and quickly ducked back into the hall, Matt's snickering fading behind me as I retreated to my own bedroom.  
  
I genuinely didn't care about how Mello made his money, and it seemed like he didn't care about it too much either. If it ever bothered him or gave him grief, he never showed it. He didn't bring it up the next time we spent the day together, or the next time, or any other time, really. Or even when we texted each other throughout the day. It seemed like there were more important things happening between us, like the fact that Mello had invited me to stay over at his house.  
  
He'd brought it up casually one day under the guise of inviting me to a party with him.  
  
"It's just a bunch of people from school, as usual. It promises to be very boring," Mello had said before flashing me a cheeky grin and adding, "Unless you'll come with me, of course."  
  
"Well, I can't say no when you twist my arm like that," I told him, unable to help the smile that spread across my face as I looked at him.  
  
"So you'll come?" he asked me, and I nodded. "Good! And we can crash at my place."  
  
My smile quickly fell to give way to surprise, and I felt a nervous blush rising to my cheeks. Finally, I managed to nod again and say, "Yeah, sounds good."  
  
I wasn't nervous about sleeping overnight with him- he'd slept in my bed a few times already, and I had found that I far preferred it to sleeping on my own. Mello was not shy or ashamed about wrapping himself around me when we slept, usually pulling my back into his chest and burying his face into my hair or my shoulder, then wrapping his arms around my waist. It was so comfortable and secure that it almost always knocked me out cold.  
  
What made me nervous was the idea of intruding on Mello's space. Even if he had invited me, I couldn't help but worry that I would be imposing on him by being in his home. I imagined myself knocking over all of the canvases in his bedroom in a cartoonish domino effect and inwardly groaned.  
  
When I voiced my concerns to Mello on the porch as he was leaving, he draped his arms over my shoulders and drew me close.  
  
"Why would I invite you to spend the night with me if I thought you'd be imposing? Silly," he said with a patient smile.  
  
"Because you secretly hate me," I replied, and I heard him chuckle softly as he leaned in close to me.  
  
"You caught me," he teased, kissing me behind my ear and making me shiver.  
  
"You really want me to?"  
  
"I really, really want you to."  
  
I smiled a little at this reassurance. "And your friends from school won't pick any fights with me?" I asked teasingly.  
  
Mello smirked, but it faltered for a moment. "If anyone ever did anything to you," he said in a humorless voice, "I would kill them."  
  
I felt my heart jump at this declaration, a small gasp parting my lips, which Mello took as an invitation to lean in and kiss me so hard that I thought I might lose my balance and stumble backwards. When he pulled away I was dizzy and breathless, and he let me lean into him for a moment until I could right myself. Even once I had regained my equilibrium, he held me close, and I found my arms wrapping around him as well.  
  
Over the couple of weeks we had spent together, we would often hold each other in silence, and it was one of the most comforting things I had ever experienced. I nestled my head against Mello's chest and he rested his chin on top of my hair, his thumbs making warm circles on my back. I would have been happy to stand on my porch like that for the rest of my life if I could have had it that way.  
  
"I have a few things to take care of in the morning," Mello finally said in a murmur against my hair, "but when I'm done I'll pick you up and we'll go to lunch before we get ready for the party. Is that okay?"  
  
I nodded into his chest and mumbled, "I just wish you didn't have to go is all."  
  
Mello squeezed me and dipped down to kiss me again, much softer this time. I never knew why, but when he kissed me like that- tender and fond like that- it always made me feel like I was about to cry. I couldn't ever tell if it was in a good way or not, though.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow and it'll feel like no time has passed at all," Mello promised me once he'd pulled away, dragging his fingertips down my arms until he'd reached my hands to hold them.  
"If you say so," I said. I was always so painfully aware of the time that stood between us.  
  
Eventually, like always, I was alone on the porch, but I couldn't bring myself to go inside just yet. It was the last place Mello had held me, so I wanted to stay with it a bit longer. I decided to sit on the edge of the porch, idly watching the cars passing in the street in front of the house. Matt poked his head out of the front door after a while, looking for me.  
  
"Oh," he said when he saw me, and he came out to sit next to me. "I thought maybe you'd gone for a walk or something."  
  
"Nah, I just...I feel weird when he leaves, I guess," I said, and Matt inclined his head towards me a bit.  
  
"So you two are together now, or...?"  
  
"Matt, I don't know," I answered with a small sigh, and he nodded.  
  
"Neither of you wants to bring it up, huh?" he asked me.  
  
"I guess."  
  
"Well, be careful, by all means. But listen to your heart and all that," Matt told me as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his hoodie pocket and lit one up.  
  
"So are you my singing animal companion in the Disney musical that is my life?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at his cliche.  
  
"Mhm. Follow your heart, be true to your friends, do the goddamn dishes for once."  
  
I snickered at him and he grinned at me. Sometime later I did go inside and do the dishes.  
  
  


I sped through my workload in the morning, despite telling myself that I should take my time to try and have as little dead air as possible in the time between finishing and seeing Mello again. It didn't work out that way, though, so I busied myself with taking a shower, drying my hair, straightening my room, and picking out an outfit. I knew he was probably busy, but as I sat cross-legged on my floor in front of my closet, I sent Mello a text.  
  
 _I never have anything to wear. :(_  
  
He replied with a surprising quickness.  
  
 _ill bring you something!_  
  
My eyes went wide and I felt my face flush. I made a soft squealing noise that I might not have made if Matt hadn't been at school.  
  
 _You don't have to do that!_  
  
 _well im gonna ;) im almost done here!_  
  
My heart leaped with joy at this, and I told him I would see him soon. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, unsure of what exactly Mello was bringing for me but excited all the same. I pondered over whether or not to bring another change of clothes and decided I probably should if I was staying the night. I grabbed my empty bookbag from the back of my closet and threw in some pajama pants, another pair of jeans, a couple more t-shirts, and a few small things- deodorant, my toothbrush, my tube of mascara.  
  
I paced restlessly in the living room while I listened for the sound of Mello's bike approaching, my heart lifting when I finally heard the familiar rumble outside of the door. I opened it just as Mello was turning off his bike and taking off his helmet, and I watched him with a spellbound gaze as he shook his hair out a bit. He grinned when he saw me, making my cheeks flood with color.  
  
"I hope you don't mind, but I brought you something I made, kind of," he told me as he got off of the bike, then dug around in his own bag. Finally he pulled out a folded piece of black fabric and handed it over. Upon unfolding it, I realized that it was a long-sleeved shirt with a handpainted design on the front. It was a painting of a ferris wheel done in bright blues and purples, with pink accents hedging the edges and making the whole thing look very blithe.  
  
"You made this?" I asked in disbelief, and Mello nodded. I immediately pulled it on over my t-shirt, and I heard Mello take a quick intake of breath.  
  
"It looks better on you than it ever did on me," he said, pulling me close and kissing my cheek.  
  
"I find that hard to believe," I replied, and he prodded my sides playfully, making me yelp and squirm in his hold.  
  
As promised, Mello took me to lunch, and we ended up going to his second-favorite place downtown: a small Pakistani restaurant that served their curry in small silver pots and played Urdu pop music in the background. As unfamiliar as I was with the cuisine, it was delicious. Mello ate something called a biryani that looked big enough to feed both of us, and I tried chicken tikka masala at Mello's request. I was glad I'd decided to bring my toothbrush, though.  
  
Once we went to Mello's house, we ended up sitting on Mello's bed while he rolled a blunt instead of getting ready right away. I'd noticed I'd been smoking a lot more weed over the past couple of weeks, mostly because Mello always had a surplus. And even when we weren't hanging out, he'd give me a blunt here, a dime bag there. He was pretty generous about it.  
  
While he rolled, I looked around Mello's room and saw he'd finished his painting of the woman with her drippy blue-green jewels, and now a blank canvas sat on his easel instead. I looked a bit closer and found it wasn't blank at all, though- I made out pencil markings, drawing the outline of the painting to come.  
  
"What are you working on now?" I asked, and he glanced up to follow my gaze to the easel.  
  
"It's for class, actually, I just got the assignment the other day," he told me, pausing to quickly run his tongue along the edge of the cigarillo paper to finish rolling it up. As Mello spoke, I moved in close to his side, and he put an arm around me as he brought the flame of his lighter to the blunt in his mouth. Between the two of us, the room quickly filled with smoke, and our surroundings grew hazy around us as we talked and laughed.

By the time we decided to get ready, we were cutting it a little close. The sun had gone down, and we squeezed into Mello's bathroom to share the mirror. I brushed my teeth, put on some mascara, and fixed my hair. Once I was done, I perched on the closed toilet seat and watched while Mello flat-ironed his hair, then dusted his face with powder foundation and dabbed a moisturizer onto his lips. I watched that part a little more closely than the others, admittedly.  
  
Eventually we headed to the party, hosted by someone named Misa, a fashion design student that Mello had collaborated with the year before on a few of her garments. She was in one of his drawing classes, too, from what I understood.  
  
"She's alright," Mello had told me. "Kind of spoiled, I guess, but that's just the rich-kid vibe, you know?"  
  
Once I saw her home, I thought that maybe I did know.  
  
From the viewpoint of a college student, the place was huge. Two stories, with a garage and a deck in the back. After Mello parked his bike amongst the other cars along the street, he scoffed up at the place as he took my hand.  
  
"Don't be too impressed, she certainly doesn't pay for any of it," he said, and I nodded.  
  
We ventured inside and were met with the regular party pleasantries from the bubbly hostess: _So glad you're here! You look so good! Drinks are in the kitchen! You can smoke on the deck! I'll come find you later!_  
  
Mello mercifully dealt with all of the small talk, letting me cling to his hand until we could make our way out onto the deck. The interior of the house had quickly become too crowded for both of our likings, and while the deck was still rather populated, at least it was outside.  
  
"So you know all of these people?" I asked Mello as he pulled a blunt out of his cigar case. I was still a little stoned from before, but I took it when he offered it to me.  
  
"Most of them. That's Linda, the girl whose stuff is in the cafe right now," he told me, nodding towards an attractive brunette girl drinking a beer on the other side of the deck. "And that's...what the fuck?"  
  
I followed Mello's gaze and saw he was looking at a young man who did not seem to be having a particularly good time. His hair was neat and brown, and he didn't look dressed for a party. He was wearing a bomber jacket, a button-down, and khakis, whereas everyone else looked a bit more casual.  
  
"Who's that?" I asked, and Mello gave a long sigh.  
  
"Light Yagami. He's, uh, the guy I buy my stuff from," he told me, and I raised my eyebrows.  
  
"What's he doing here?"  
  
"I guess someone here buys their stuff from him, too. Kind of annoying."  
  
Light's ears must have been itching or something because he looked in our direction as soon as Mello finished talking. I heard Mello sigh again and felt him tense up a bit as Light started making his way over.  
  
"Funny running into you here," Light said when he was close enough, and he flashed us a toothy smile that somehow made him less approachable.  
  
"I could say the same thing to you. I didn't think Misa liked that kind of party," Mello replied.  
  
"You might be surprised at what Misa likes," Light said, and Mello cocked a brow at him.  
  
"Hm," was all he said in response.  
  
We all stood in silence for a few seconds, Light looking at Mello expectantly.  
  
"Aren't you going to introduce your friend, Mello?" the young man finally asked, his voice exaggeratedly patient.  
  
For a long time, Mello said nothing, and then finally he mumbled out, "This is my boyfriend, Near."  
  
 _Boyfriend. Boyfriend? He definitely said boyfriend._  
  
I felt my whole face go very hot and I was sure it was just as red, and Light snickered at the sight.  
  
"Looks like that's news to Near," he said, and I hated the way my name sounded from his mouth.  
  
Mello looked down at me, and I was surprised to see his brows draw close in an expression that almost looked hurt.  
  
"W-what? I-I mean--," I stammered.  
  
"Anyway, it was great to catch up, I'll see you around, Mels," Light cut me off, wiggling his fingers in a half-assed wave at us as he walked away, leaving us standing in silence together. Mello was still looking down at me, the unfamiliar expression on his face making my stomach tangle up in knots.  
  
"You don't want to be my boyfriend?" he finally asked me.  
  
"Of course I do!" I said quickly. "I just...I didn't want to assume that's what you wanted."  
  
"Did you think I was just some madman kissing you and sleeping in your bed with you for no reason?"  
  
It felt like I was making it worse.  
  
"No, no...Mello, it's just, I've never done this before. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do," I said softly. He nodded and it seemed like he understood, but I could still see some doubt in his expression, so I reached out to take hold of his hand. "I do want to be your boyfriend," I assured him. At last, he cracked a small smile.  
  
"Don't worry, you are," Mello replied, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. The coil in my stomach finally relaxed as I realized the misunderstanding had passed. "Do you want me to get us some drinks?"  
"Sure. I want the rest of that, though," I said, nodding at the last half or so of the blunt that Mello still had between his fingers. He puffed on it one more time before handing it over to me, and as I hit it he leaned to kiss my cheek before he went back inside.  
  
Once Mello had left my side I felt strange standing on my own, leaning on the side of the deck and smoking weed I had no intention of sharing with anyone. I made my way over to the small set of stairs that led from the deck down to the backyard. I sat on the last step, sure that Mello wouldn't have to look for me for very long.  
  
I thought I heard him coming down the stairs a few minutes later, but when I turned to greet him, I was met with a far more unpleasant sight: Light. Something about him just made me want to recoil in distaste. I said nothing as he came to sit next to me, but I did notice that everything he did looked like it was calculated. It made me sort of uncomfortable.  
  
"I hope I didn't rile up poor Mello too much," he said to me, flashing a smile that I'm sure was usually read as charming. He just looked like a cheat to me.  
  
"I think he's going to be okay," I said evenly.  
  
"The poor kid just gets so volatile," Light went on, as though I hadn't spoken at all. "I'm sure he's a handful."  
  
"I've found Mello very reliable," I replied, no longer trying to hide the boredom in my tone. This made him narrow his eyes at me, and I pursed my lips to suppress a smirk. I looked away from him to hit the blunt again, trying to end the conversation for good, but he wouldn't take no for an answer.  
  
"You go to school with him or something?" Light asked, his voice significantly less graceful.  
  
"Nope," I said without looking at him.  
  
"Didn't anyone teach you to look at someone when you're talking to them?" he said, and I could hear him getting more annoyed.  
  
At this, I stood up and walked further into the backyard, pulling out my phone to effectively put a stop to his pestering. Or so I'd hoped, anyway.  
  
I was surprised by a rough hand on my shoulder turning me around. Surely my shock was evident on my face as Light leered over me, hissing, "What's your problem?"  
  
"My problem?" I asked. He had the problem, clearly- no one had ever told him 'no'.  
  
"Yeah. You sure you aren't Mello's girlfriend? You sure are good at acting like a bitch," he said, and I felt my jaw drop.  
  
I had never, and have not since, ever been called a bitch.  
  
"You need to back off," I told him, trying and failing to sound firm. He took a step towards me and I took one back.  
  
"Or what? Huh? _Or what?_ " Light sneered at me. He kept advancing on me and, unable to gather my bearings in the darkness as I stumbled farther from the dim lighting of the deck, I had no choice but to backpedal away from him. I started to feel a cold panic inside of me when my back met the privacy fence that surrounded the perimeter of the backyard.  
  
Light didn't stop, though. He walked straight into me, pinning me between his body and the fence, filling my nose with his unfamiliar smell and making my whole body tense up sharply.  
  
He was saying something to me. Something awful. Trying to grab me all over.  
  
Over and over I thought, _No. I can't believe it. No. I can't believe it. No..._  
  
Then like a car crash, solid and completely out of nowhere, something smashed into us and sent us to the ground. I thought for a moment that Light had decided to shove me until I heard rustling and grunting a little ways in front of me.  
  
When my eyes adjusted, I saw Mello wrestling Light to the ground, then draw back his fist and punch him hard in the face. People standing on the deck were starting to take notice of the commotion.  
"You fucking pig. You fucking bastard," I heard Mello seething, rocking Light's head with another punch, and another, and another.  
  
I watched in a daze, not registering the sound of Light sputtering blood or the calls of the other party guests as they realized what was happening. I didn't shake out of my trance until I heard Mello say very distinctly, in his quiet rage, _"I ought to fucking kill you."_  
  
"Mello," I said weakly.  
  
"Yes?" he said immediately, his voice turning into something much sweeter when he looked at me. Light had stopped putting up a fight a while ago.  
  
"Can we leave?" I asked.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Mello left Light in the grass and helped me to my feet just as a crowd was forming around us. Misa pushed her way through to us first, asking frantically, "What happened?!"  
  
"Light Yagami is a fucking bastard creep is what happened," Mello muttered as he shrugged off his jacket to put it around my shivering shoulders.  
  
As Mello was about to lead me back to the house, Light croaked after us, "I'm going to get you, Keehl." I heard Mello scoff through his nose and he put an arm around me as we walked away.  
  
I was still shaken, of course, but I felt the warmth of protection and security with Mello, especially now. We ended up sitting on the steps of Misa's front porch for a moment so I could stop shaking, and Mello held me tight all the while.  
  
He was the first to break the silence, saying quietly, "I'm sorry."  
  
"For what?" I asked, confused. "You...you stopped him."  
  
"I should have known he was up to something when he tried talking to us at all," he said, and I shook my head.  
  
"You couldn't have known he would do something like that," I told him. I was met with a long silence, so I looked up at Mello.  
  
He was crying. Silent, fast-falling tears that slid down his cheeks and jumped from the edge of his jaw.  
  
"Mello," I whispered, eyes wide.  
  
"How am I supposed to protect you from things like this?" he said finally, his voice more strained than before. "How could I have let this happen?"  
  
"Mello," I repeated, a bit firmer this time. I reached up to put my hands on either side of his face, pulling him to look at me. I'd never seen him look so exposed before, his blue eyes watery and his brows drawn in grief. "You didn't let anything happen. You came to my rescue, understand? You're wonderful for it. I mean it."  
  
Mello's head tilted slightly in my hold, but the tears stopped falling and eventually he gave me a slow nod. I had stopped shaking, but when he kissed me, I could feel that Mello had started.  
  
  


When we got back to Mello's house, he let me take a bath in his tub. It was nice to be surrounded by all of Mello's things as well as the warm water, like a jar of seashells he had on the shelf, or the many half-burned candles on one corner of the tub. He let me soak for as long as I wanted, and when I returned to his bedroom in my pajamas, he offered to dry and comb my hair for me. I didn't usually comb it wet, but if Mello wanted to, I certainly didn't mind.  
  
I sat cross-legged in front of him on the bed while he gently dried my hair with a smaller towel, his fingers sometimes gently massaging my scalp. It was a sweet gesture, one that made me close my eyes and relax into his touch. After all of these days spent together, he still handled me like I was something precious.  
  
"Mello," I murmured once he'd begun to comb through my hair, his fingers always careful not to tug.  
  
"Yes, dearest?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
Mello's hands paused in my hair, and I could have sworn I heard him take in a swift gasp. After a few moments, though, the combing resumed, this time with Mello's other hand coming to hold one of mine where it rested on the bed.  
  
"I love you too, Near."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so so so so much for reading chapter four! isn't light just the absolute worst? i'm sorry this chapter took a little longer than expected (just like the last one, oops) but i'm going to try and update in as timely a manner as possible with work and the holidays! thank you all for the lovely comments and the kudos, feedback is always hugely appreciated and i hope you'll stick around for chapter five!

**Author's Note:**

> THANK U so much for reading Saudade! ive actually been working on this for a while and i really wanted to polish it up and post it for everyone to read, so please let me know what you think in the comments! you can also get ahold of me on tumblr (self--slaughter) and insta (skullmeatloaf). i hope you enjoy the kinda wild ride i have planned for this fic, the boys would like to remind you to only take what you can handle and always know your dealer!


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